CHAPTER THREE

Grover Unexpectedly Loses His Pants

I don't own Percy Jackson.

Grover made Percy promise to let him walk her home, but she ditched him as soon as they reached the bus terminal.

It might've been rude, but Grover was seriously scaring her. He was freaking out the entire ride, and kept on muttering some nonsense under his breath, something along the lines of how "they" never made it past sixth grade, whoever they were, and that "this" kept happening. What kept happening? Who never made it past sixth grade? With the way Grover kept looking at her like she had already died, Percy was going to assume she was one of those people Grover thought would never make it past sixth grade, and she supposed that what kept happening was the snipping of the yarn, but although Percy was sure that what had happened was a big deal, she couldn't figure out why, for some reason.

Whenever Grover was upset, he always needed to use the restroom, so she wasn't surprised when he made a beeline for the restroom, although he demanded that she wait for him. Percy didn't actually bother waiting, though. While she knew that she had promised him he could walk her home, the way Grover kept on looking at her like she was a dead woman was freaking her out, and she wasn't sure that she wanted Grover to keep mumbling the same things he had been mumbling the entire ride. So she only waited until he was inside the restroom before hailing the first taxi that passed her.

"East One-hundred-and-fourth and First," she told the driver.

Perhaps Percy should put in a word about her mother first.

Her mother's name was Sally Jackson, and she was the best person to have ever lived, which only really proved the theory that the best people seem to always have the rottenest luck. Her mother's parents had died in a plane accident, so she had to live with her uncle who didn't care about her. She spent most of high school saving up money for college, because becoming a journalist was her life's dream, but in her senior year, her uncle was diagnosed with cancer, so she had to quit school to take care of him. When he died, she was left with nothing—no money, no family, and no diploma.

But she often said that meeting Percy's dad was one of the best moments in her life.

Percy didn't often ask about her dad. She used to, which was to be expected, of course—Percy was a child who was simply curious as to who her other parent could've been. But she had later learned that forcing her mom to talk about him just made her sad. She didn't have any pictures to show Percy, but if Percy strained her memory, she could remember a sort of warm feeling, and a trace of a smile. They hadn't married, but from the way her mom talked about him, they must've loved each other a lot. Her mom told her that he was a rich and important man, and that their relationship had been a secret. Then, one day, he had set sail for something important, and he never came back.

"Not dead," her mom always said. "Just lost at sea."

But the problem was still that her mom was now left with a kid that she was expected to raise on her own, but even still, she did her best. She took odd jobs—jobs that nobody wanted—just to be able to put food on the table and provide a roof over their heads. In her meager spare time, she managed to take night classes to get her diploma. She managed to raise Percy all on her own. Her mom somehow never got angry or complained, but Percy knew she wasn't an easy kid.

But just when things were starting to get better, she married the worst guy in the world.

Gabe Ugliano.

And Percy had never met anyone's whose name fit them perfectly.

He was decent for the first ten seconds they knew him, but after that, he showed his true colors as a world-class jerk. Even after all those years, Percy still couldn't understand why her mom had married him. She always told Percy that he was good for them in ways she didn't understand, but she also refused to tell her exactly in what way he was good for them, and Percy knew her mom couldn't have been happy. Why did you marry him? Percy sometimes wanted to scream. We could've been happy! But her mom always had a tired look in her eyes, and Percy didn't want to push her. She didn't want to stress her mom more than what was necessary.

In the first year that Gabe had married her mom, Percy had tried to listen to her mom. Why wouldn't she have? She was just a child. She tried to convince herself that perhaps there was something good about Gabe, that maybe there was something her mom could see that she couldn't. There must've been a reason that she married Gabe, and Percy had struggled to try and see the reason. But she hadn't even lasted a year before she gave up.

There was no redemption in Gabe, nothing good in him, and there was no point in trying to find it.

Why had her mom married him? Every time she looked at Gabe, all she felt was a revolting urge to vomit. There was nothing good about him, and yet her mother had thrown away her happiness for the man. When she was younger, Percy had nicknamed him Smelly Gabe. Perhaps it was rude, considering the whole "respect your elders" thing, but Percy firmly believed that age didn't mean anything in terms of respect, and Gabe was a perfect example of that. The only people who had her respect were people who deserved it, and Gabe, it was safe to say, had not.

He always smelled like old, moldy food wrapped in dirty clothes, because that was literally how he lived. He was always around food, never showered or changed, always had the heater on full blast, and he was always just sitting around at the table, sweating like a pig while playing power with his "buddies." Percy couldn't even understand howpeople would've enjoyed being around someone like Gabe, but apparently, he had a couple of poker friends.

It was almost admirable, really, that it was possible to hate someone as much as Percy hated Gabe.

Of course, the feeling wasn't one-sided. Gabe absolutely loathed her back. Their relationship had been rocky at best in the beginning, but if it had been bad in the beginning, it was beyond saving now. So what happened when she finally arrived home really was no surprise.

As soon as she stepped through the door, the smell of beer and cigars blasted her in the face, and Percy gagged silently as she turned around to drag her suitcase in and close the door. She could hear people in the other room—clearly, Gabe was in the middle of one of the stupid poker games. While her mother had to work herself half to death to be able to keep a roof over their heads, Gabe always gambled away all his money in those stupid games, and clearly, the only reason he had friends still was because those so-called friends saw him as an easy source of money.

"So, you're home." Gabe didn't look up as he dealt his cards.

"Is my mom home?" she asked, trying not to breathe.

"No. Got any cash?"

Percy wasn't really surprised at the oh-so-welcome warming, but she couldn't help but grit her teeth at his tone of disdain and self-importance. She had to force herself to calm down, reminding herself that she couldn't really just rush him and try to murder him… at least, not with witnesses around.

Gabe had somehow done the impossible and put on weight. As always, he looked like a hairless walrus, the three struggling strands of hair on his head all combed back like he thought it made him look handsome or something. And of course, he reeked of alcohol and cigars. Percy would've truly been concerned if he didn't. Next to the garbage can, she caught sight of half a dozen empty pizza boxes all stacked, clearly unable to fit in the can. On the table lay another half dozen boxes, and one of his poker friends was already reaching for another slice of pizza.

He technically managed an electronic mega market, but why Percy said "technically" was because she wasn't sure if she had ever actually seen him go to work. All she had observed him doing the summers she was home was playing poker, drinking beer, and smoking cigars. When he wasn't doing any of that, he was probably eating or sleeping. Could being that unhealthy even feel good? Percy wondered sometimes. Didn't it ever feel disgusting to him when he was always covered in sweat and oil and reeked of the PE lockers at Yancy? Percy wasn't sure if she would've been able to live like that. If it had been her, she would've been so grossed out that she would've been driven to shower at least once a week.

Percy wasn't sure how he hadn't been fired from his workplace yet, but he always received a paycheck at the end of the month. However, as expected, that money never went anywhere useful—no, he always just gambled it away, or spent it on food while gambling away his other money. Percy very much doubted that he had never helped her mom with the bills. Whenever she got home, he expected her to fund his games, and even if he did somehow win, he would always spend it on beer. Always beer. And if she refused, he would punch her lights out. He called it their "little secret," because he knew Percy never wanted to bother her mom with something so trivial.

This time, however, Percy was too angry to care whether or not he decided to beat her up. She was tired, and cranky, and she was honestly still a little freaked out by Grover's antics, and all she wanted was some peace and quiet, dammit! Why couldn't the universe have just woven a future where she would have one minute of silence?

"No," Percy snapped.

Gabe raised a filthy eyebrow, glaring at her, and Percy just glared right back at him, although her heart was sinking. She had forgotten that Gabe had the ability to sniff out money, which was honestly kind of surprising, because she had thought that he would never be able to smell anything other than his own, stinking breath that she was currently trying not to suffocate in.

"You took a cab, paid with a twenty, and probably have six or seven left. If you're gonna live under this roof, you better start contributing."

Like you ever contributed anything! Percy wanted to scream back. Like you've ever even tried to help out my mom! All you do is use all our money to play some stupid games where you don't even win anything, and all your stupid poker friends are only hanging around you so they can have an easy source of money! There were also about another thousand things Percy wanted to shout. She had half a decade of things to say, and she wasn't even sure that she would've made it halfway through that list if she stood there for an entire week without taking a break.

But she had also promised her mom that she would do her best to get along with him. Even though her mom wasn't there, Percy didn't want to have to break that promise. She knew that if she shouted all those things, Gabe wouldn't have cared if there were people in the room. He would've knocked the lights out of her right then and there. But Percy didn't care. She never cared. If she was being the one hit, then Gabe wasn't hitting her mom. But her mom had always tried to make it work with Gabe. She had always done everything to make sure he was happy. And Percy might not have understood why, but she couldn't let her mother's hard work all go to waste.

Instead, Percy settled for the moth scathing scowl she could muster and thrust her hands into her pocket, retrieving the money she had been hoping to save, and flung the cash into his face.

"I hope you lose!" she shouted as she stormed toward her room, dragging her clunking suitcase behind her.

"Your report card came!" Gabe shouted back. "I wouldn't be so snotty if I were you, idiot!"

Eddie, the super to their apartment, who was surprisingly a bit nicer than one would've expected from one of Gabe's friends, tried to give Percy a sympathetic smile, but the raging girl didn't see it. The last thing she heard before she slammed the door to her room was the sound of the other two guys passing gas in harmony.

She gagged, but the smell inside could've seriously rivalled that of outside. The smell of beer pervaded the air, and Percy rushed toward the window, letting go of her suitcase, and forced it open. Although she knew it would take a while for smell to actually become somewhat decent, she felt as though she could already smell a difference, and she stuck her head outside to get a quick breath of actually breathable air. Then she turned around to see her "room."

During the school year, when Percy was away and it technically wasn't her room, Gabe used it as his study room… except he never actually studied anything except for random magazines that he glanced over for about ten seconds. However, studying wasn't Gabe's main priority. His main priority, it seemed, was to make the place as disgusting and inhabitable as possible. As Percy did a quick survey of her room, she noted the mud on the windowsill, the crumpled papers strewn on the ground, and the beer and cigarette butts staining the ground… and that was the cleaner part. There was also a layer of dust covering everything, and Gabe had left empty cans and food wrappings littered all over the room, and food—old, moldy food—had been left lying all over her furniture, but especially her bed.

Home sweet home.

Despite how depressing the situation was, Percy couldn't help but laugh bitterly at the thought.

She wasn't sure if there was anything that could be done to the place where it could return to its former state, but she did try to clean up her bed… which ended up with Percy just deciding to push everything onto the ground. Considering how dirty the ground was already, she could just sweep and mop everything… if mopping would even do anything. She doubted it could.

After stripping off her bedsheet—she would need to wash all of that, along with disinfecting all her furniture—her bed didn't look quite as nasty as it did when she had first entered the room, so she deemed it safe to drop down on it, but now that she was alone… she was left with just her thoughts, and leaving her alone with just her thoughts, Percy found, was not a good thing.

She found herself thinking of Mrs Dodds, and the three old ladies at the fruit stand, and, involuntarily, Percy shivered. What were they? Clearly Grover had thought they were related to death, which was why he had been acting so weird, and though Percy wanted to dismiss his concerns and tell him he was out of his mind, there was a small part of her that kept whispering: but what if he wasn't insane? Grover knew more about them than he had been letting on. She suddenly felt cold. She shouldn't have left Grover at the bus terminal. Not only had that been a jerk move, but she needed answers now, more than anyone, and Grover had been the only person who could provide her with answers.

She had a terrible feeling that something was rushing up the stairs to kill her, its teeth and claws elongating just like Mrs Dodds...

"Percy?" a familiar voice called, and all her worries vanished.

Her mother had the ability to light up any room she wanted into. At least, that's what Percy felt like. So when her mother opened the door, Percy found herself smiling. Her mother's eyes changed colors in the light, and they were always sparkling. She had several gray streaks, but Percy had never thought of her as old. Whenever she looked at Percy, the latter felt as though she skipped over all the terrible things about her and went straight for the good. Percy had never heard her raise her voice or even say anything unkind about anyone, not even to Gabe, who, in Percy's opinion, deserved more than a few unkind words.

She hugged her tightly, saying, "Oh, Percy, you've grown since Christmas!"

Her red-blue-and-white Sweet on America uniform smelled like the candy she worked with, and Percy already found herself drooling at the thought. Every time Percy came back from school, her mom would always have a huge bag of "free samples" that Percy would "taste test" from the shop she worked in, in Grand Central. While Percy devoured the blue airheads without any mercy, her mom brushed aside a couple strands of hair from her face, demanding every small detail Percy hadn't put in her letters. She didn't seem to care that Percy had been expelled. She just wanted to know if Percy was alright, if she were okay.

Percy told her mom that she was smothering her, but secretly, she was really, really glad to see her.

Just as Percy felt as though she was glad to be home Gabe called, in his stupid obnoxious voice, "Hey Sally, why don't you get me some bean dip, huh?"

As Gabe laughed with his friends in the other room, Percy gritted her teeth, clenching her fists, forcing herself to not strangle him. For a twelve-year-old, she was surprisingly violent. Her mom was the nicest person in the world. She deserved to be married to some millionaire, and Gabe should've known he was lucky to even be in the same room as her mom, let alone be married to her. Her mom, however, gave her a warning glance, as if to remind Percy not to do anything that would break out in violence, and Percy had to refrain from scoffing in frustration. Why did her mom care so much about what Gabe thought?

As if sensing the tension in the room (not that it was hard to), her mom said quickly, "Percy, I have a surprise."

"Good surprise?"

"When is it ever bad?"

The two of them laughed slightly, relieving some of the tension.

"This week," her mom said, "three days in Montauk. Just the two of us."

Percy stared for a few moments, trying to process the new information, before a slow grin started to unfurl itself on her lips as she asked, "When do we leave?"

"As soon as I change."

Montauk was a special place for them. And there were a lot of things that made their little run-down cabin special, but the one thing that Percy loved about it more than anything was that Gabe hated it. He hated everything about it, and that was why it was such a perfect getaway place for Percy and her mom. They never had to worry about Gabe following them, because Gabe, it seemed, couldn't understand why anyone would want to stay away from electricity for more than ten minutes (her mom had never let her use devices if she could help it, and at this point, it was just habit to Percy to not use a phone or a TV anymore), but he had also always complained about there never being enough money, so they hadn't gone during the last two summers.

But speak of the devil, and he shall appear, for at that moment, Gabe appeared in the doorway of Percy's room, glowering. "Bean dip, Sally, didn't you hear me?"

Percy glared at him as if her stare could burn a hole right through him and have him out of their lives for good, and she wished she could, but he didn't seem to notice. It was like he could smell happiness and it was his duty to squash whatever light he could sense. Her mother, however, shot her a warning look that Percy knew all too well: be nice, just for a little while, and then they would be out of there in no time. If she were rude to Gabe, he might not have let them leave, considering that the only method of transport they had was his Camaro.

"I was just about to, honey," her mom said to him, and Percy wondered how she managed to say that without feeling sick. "We were just talking about the trip."

He froze at that. "Wait, you were being serious about that?"

"I knew it," Percy muttered, unable to help herself. "He won't let us go."

"Of course he will," her mom said. "Your stepfather is just worried about the money. Besides, he won't have to settle with just bean dip. I can make my seven-layer dip—enough to last the entire weekend."

Percy knew her mother had hit the sweet spot when she saw Gabe's face begin to soften, and she had to suppress a smile. Her mother knew exactly how to convince Gabe—appeal to his stomach or to his heart, the latter of which lay with beer, poker, and the TV. And Percy was embarrassed to admit she knew how Gabe worked too; she knew that while he did rely on her cooking, he could always just order pizza or something like he always did, and he always complained about how her mother was around whenever he was trying to have his poker games or whatever. By having them leave for an entire weekend and living off his dip, he probably thought that he had just hit the jackpot.

"As long as this is all coming out of your clothes budget," he muttered at last, and Percy's already fake-smile was starting to become strained.

Her mother's clothes budget? Was he being serious? Her mother already had far too little clothes, and they were all bought second-hand at some thrift shops because Gabe had already said that they didn't have enough money. And then Percy suddenly felt so incredibly guilty because—

Her mother was sacrificing so much for Percy. Why? Percy wanted to ask sometimes. It wasn't like she was so impressive anyway. Maybe if Percy was some sort of renowned celebrity, or if she were the smartest person in her class, or she had discovered the cure to cancer or something, she might've been able to understand why her mother gave up so much for her well-being. But Percy was just… well, she was just Percy. A disappointment, the worst in her class, someone who couldn't even manage to go to the same school for more than a year. And it might've felt good, having one person look at her and see past all that, but that didn't change the fact that she was still just Percy.

Then her mom continued, "And we'll be borrowing your car too, honey, just for the weekend."

Gabe looked like he was about to faint, and Percy, for a moment, savagely wished he would, but his eyes flickered from the plate of bean dip in his hands and toward her mom's smile, and Percy knew he was making some calculations, though she wondered how complicated the calculations were, because she was afraid that his brain just wasn't built for anything over second grade math.

After a few moments that seemed like millenia, Gabe said slowly, still thinking it over, "Fine. But only if you start on the dip now. And if the girl apologizes for interrupting my poker game."

Percy just stared at him as if he had grown a third head.

Yeah, sure. Maybe right after she kicked him so hard he would be singing soprano for weeks, or after she shoved a book so far down his throat he would be singing chapter titles for weeks. But her mother caught the burning glare in her eyes, and gave her a look she knew well. It was the same look she always gave Percy whenever the latter was inches away from throttling her step-father.

And so for her mother, Percy gritted her teeth, swallowed her pride (which left a bitter aftertaste), and put on the most sincere expression she could muster, which probably looked like she was in pain, and muttered, "I'm sorry for ruining your very important poker game. Please go back to your game."

Percy wished there was such a thing as bleach for brains because she wished she could forget that she had just apologized to him. Gabe just squinted at her, clearly trying to detect sarcasm, and she had to force herself to remain calm. Gabe would let them go, Gabe had to let them go. She had done her best; she wasn't sure if she would be able to do any better, to be honest.

"Fine," he grunted at last, and went back to his game.

Her mom beamed at her when Gabe left before making her way to the kitchen to get started on the dip. As for Percy, she got started on packing for the trip, trying to ignore Gabe's guffaws and the sounds of him and his buddies passing gas.

Percy didn't have much to bring, and neither did her mother, and so an hour later, they were ready to leave.

As Percy loaded the last of the bags into the car, Gabe called from the doorway, "One scratch. One scratch onto this car, and you're dead, got it?"

Percy distantly mused to herself if she should've reminded him she wasn't going to be the one driving, but then she decided that it would be a waste of time. Gabe would find some way to blame her for anything that happened—even if it were something like a seagull pooping on his paint job. Percy had found that there really was no logic to arguing with someone like Gabe, who didn't even deserve the compliment of rational debate.

Anyway, while her mother was still getting some last minute stuff ready, Gabe just kept standing there, griping and groaning about how he was going to lose her mother's cooking and his car for an entire weekend, and Percy couldn't help but roll her eyes. He didn't even use his car—all he did was sit at home and just waste money on poker games and beer, so why was he even complaining? Her mother's cooking part, she could sort of understand—her mother's cooking was the best in the world—but then again, it shouldn't have been normal for him to blow through the entire dip before the weekend was over.

Suddenly, when she saw her step-father complaining about all that to her mother, Percy was suddenly filled with rage and bitterness and hatred—she had never felt such anger at Gabe before, and she wasn't sure why it was popping up now of all times, but in that moment, she snapped.

When her mother got into the driver's side, Percy remembered what Grover had done on the bus—the three-fingered claw symbol that seemed to ward off evil—and she shoved it at Gabe, not really expecting anything to happen, but she had just been too mad to care. So it was more a shock than anything when a gust of wind or a problem with the hinges or something slammed the door so hard into his behind that it sent him flying up the stairs. Percy blinked, wondering if that had really just happened when a small snicker fell from her lips. Her mother pressed her lips together, but Percy could tell she was suppressing a smile too.

Gabe's muffled shouts were the last thing she heard from that place in a really, really long time.

When the two of them arrived at the little cabin her mother had rented out and they began unloading their bags, Percy allowed a soft smile to cross her face as she closed her eyes, sinking into the gentle sea breeze and salty air and soft sand. The ocean had an effect on her mother too—as Percy watched, her mother seems to grow younger, her worry lines and darkened eyes disappearing. Her multicolored eyes changed to the color of the ocean. Daughter and mother exchanged a small, secret smile.

Percy knew why this beach was so important to her mother, even though she never admitted it.

It was where she had met her father.

It only took one trip for them to bring all their things to the cabin, which was just how they left it. Half-faded curtains, bleached from the sun; there was always something in the sheets, though it was different every time; there was something that always lived in the cabinets too, always hiding in the shadows. The windows themselves were of rather lamentable quality too, for even with them tightly shut, Percy could still hear the waves crashing against the sand dunes.

And yet, Percy still loved it.

They spent the first hour of their trip cleaning out the room as best they could—they were sleeping in different beds, though in the same room, but Percy didn't mind. While she took it upon herself to rid the sheets of sand, her mother took care of the spiders and such living in the cabinets. Percy shuddered at the thought.

While she didn't particularly hate spiders, she also just found that she couldn't stand the sight of them. Having eight eyes and eight legs was just rather unnatural to her. What was even worse was that the cabinets were filled with them, and while she could stand one or two of those creepy-crawlies, she couldn't handle more than three without freaking out. How anyone thought they were cute and were completely ready to cuddle them, she had no idea. They knew bravery beyond her comprehension.

When her mother deemed the room clean enough, they decided to take a walk down the beach, and her mother produced a bag of food as snacks. They walked down the beach, feeding hungry seagulls blue tortillas and corn chips, and enjoyed some blue jelly beans and taffy her mother had brought back from work.

The blue food was a bit of an inside joke between the two of them, though it had become something more over the years.

Several years ago, Gabe had said there was no such thing as blue food. Her mother and Gabe had an argument over it, which seemed ridiculous at the time, but her mother, after that, had gone out of her way to make blue food. She bought blueberry ice cream, mixed blueberry smoothies, bought blue tortilla chips, and brought home blue candy from her shop. When it came down to food that wasn't sold in blue, she always had a small bottle of blue food coloring at hand for baking birthday cakes or cookies or the like.

In the beginning, Percy hated it, because Gabe would always get upset at the color blue, and an upset Gabe was something that nobody would've wanted to deal with. After a year or two, though, Percy became used to it, and she even grew to appreciate it. It showed that, despite how much her mother was willing to put up with when it came to Gabe, she still had a rebellious streak—like her. She had even kept her maiden name—Jackson—for which Percy was eternally grateful for, because Percy wasn't ready for her last name to become "Ugliano." It would've meant accepting Gabe into their family, and she would've rather died.

Anyway, after the few peeks of the sun's rays disappeared below the horizon, they sat near the cabins and made a campfire, roasting hotdogs and marshmallows. Her mother told her the same stories as she always did—of when she was little, before the plane crash; the ideas for books she wanted to write when she finally had enough money to quit the candy shop and could start writing—but Percy never got tired of hearing them. Seeing the way her mother smiled and the way her eyes sparkled was something Percy wouldn't have traded away for anything.

Finally, Percy asked about her father. She knew that her mother never told her much about him, but she was always fascinated by even the little her mother would tell her. She always said the same thing, but Percy felt as though every time her mother told her, she could remember a little better. She had never told her mother about the faint memory she had of her father, but it seemed just a bit clearer whenever her mother recounted her tales of her father.

"He was perfect," her mother said, wiping her eyes gently. "Powerful, handsome, tall. But kind too, always looking out for me. You have his hair, and his green eyes, you know. If he could see you now, I know that he would be so proud of you."

Percy managed to turn her disbelieving scoff into a cough. What kind of father would've been proud of her? She was a dyslexic, ADHD kid with a C- report card, who couldn't manage to stay in a single school for more than a year. How would he have been proud?

But Percy didn't say any of that. Instead, she asked, "How old was I? When he left?"

Her mom looked at her curiously. It was a question Percy had never asked before. "Percy, he never saw you. He knew I was expecting a baby, but he never saw you. He had to leave before you were born."

"No," Percy said after a few seconds of silence, her voice sounding insistent to her own ears, but she didn't care. "No, that doesn't make any sense. He must've known me as a baby. Why would he have left before?"

Her mother's eyes turned misty as she looked back at the campfire. "We were together for only a summer, Percy. And if he could've stayed, I know he would've. He was so overjoyed at the news, and even more so that you were a daughter. But he had to leave for an important voyage when I was pregnant with you, honey, and he couldn't. Leaving us, he said, was one of the hardest things he had to do."

Percy found herself glaring at the ocean as if it were the source of all her problems, and honestly, in a way, it was. Why had the ocean taken her father away from them? Why hadn't he decided to stay and marry her mother? Why had he left without even trying to meet Percy? She had always assumed that she had met him when she was an infant, and she had held on desperately to the memory of his smile, but he had never met her. And she was angry.

Angry at her father, angry at the ocean, angry at the world—but mostly her father. Because if he had stayed, and if he had married her mother, maybe they wouldn't have been stuck with Smelly Gabe. And perhaps it was selfish and childish to bitterly blame all her problems on a man she never knew, but Percy really just didn't care anymore.

Deciding that they needed a switch of topics, she asked, "Are you going to send me away to another boarding school next year, Mom?"

It turned out that that wasn't the right topic to ask about, because her mother sighed, looking a bit melancholy, "I don't know, Percy, but I'm sure we'll figure something out."

"Because you don't want me around?"

Percy regretted the words as soon as they left her lips when she saw her mother's eyes well with tears, and she reached forward, taking Percy's hand in hers.

"No, it's not that, Percy. I—I have to. For your own good."

"Like what Mr. Brunner told me. Because I'm not normal."

"Oh honey, you say that like it's a bad thing. You're special. More special than you could ever know. I had thought that Yancy Academy had been far away enough. I thought that you would finally be safe."

"Safe from what?" she asked curiosity, though she had a feeling she wouldn't want to know.

Her mother didn't answer, only looking up to meet her eyes, and suddenly, Percy began to remember all the strange things she had experienced in her life.

She remembered the time when, in preschool, she had been napping during sleep time and a snake had somehow gotten into her cot. Even more bizarre was when she had managed to strangle it with her toddler hands. When her mother had come to pick her up at the end of the day, she had screamed at the sight of Percy playing with a dead snake.

She remembered when, in third grade, a man had stalked her on the playground. He wouldn't leave her alone, and it freaked her out, so she told her teachers. After needing a bit of convincing from her since they thought she was just horsing around, they threatened to call the police, and the man finally stomped off, growling. Nobody believed her when she insisted that the man only had one eye under his hat.

Every year, something weird happened, forcing her to change schools.

And this year, it had been Mrs. Dodds, and the three old ladies at the fruit stand...

She knew she should've told her mother about Mrs. Dodds, and the three old ladies. Her mother must've known more than she was letting on, and Percy knew her mother would've wanted to hear about it. But she also knew that telling her would've cut their trip short, and she didn't want that to happen. It had been so long since they were able to get away from the city, from the apartment, from Gabe, and just spend some time together. So Percy decided she could tell her mother everything after the trip. It was only three days, right?

"I was selfish," her mother said. "I wanted to keep you as close to me as possible. They told me it was dangerous. But I just couldn't bear to send you away to any place further. There was a second option, but… if I do that, it won't end well. Your father wanted me to send you there."

Percy frowned. "My father wanted to send me to a school?"

"Not a school," she answered softly. "A summer camp."

Percy's mind was reeling. Why would her father, someone she had never even met before, tell her mother that he wanted to send me to some summer camp? Was it some sort of traditional thing in his family that he wanted her to continue? But if it had been so important to him, to them, why hadn't her mother mentioned anything about a summer camp before to her?

"If I send you there," her mother continued, her eyes brimming with tears again, "I might lose you forever."

"But mom," Percy said quietly, "if it's just a summer camp, then why…?"

She stopped when she saw her mother place a hand over her mouth, and knew that if she pushed any harder, her mother would start to cry.

That night, Percy had the strangest dream, which was saying something, considering how strange her dreams had gotten in Yancy.

She was on Montauk Beach, but the waves were crashing against the sand with a ferocity she had never seen before. Overhead, the sky crackled with lighting as thunder shook the beach, rattling her eyeballs. The sea suddenly began to froth madly, and as Percy watched, half-fascinated and half-horrified, the foam solidified into a beautiful pure-white horse, which tossed its head and whinnied angrily at the sky. When Percy looked up, a flash of lightning somehow twisted itself into an electrified outline of an eagle, who burst to life as violently as electricity, its wings still crackling with lightning.

The horse whinnied as the sea churned, and the golden eagle screeched loudly and beat its wings, lightning and thunder flashing and booming. And then, suddenly they charged at each other—the horse galloped at the bird at full speed while the eagle swooped in, claws extended and beak snapping. When they met, the horse stood on its rear legs, kicking at the eagle, which dodged the strike, lashing out with its beak, slashing the horse's muzzle.

For some reason, Percy knew she had to stop them. She tried running toward them, but it was like she was running through honey; like she was moving in slow-motion. And the more she ran, the stronger the wind became, blowing her back so much that instead of running in slow-motion, her heels were digging uselessly into the sand, though it didn't deter her from continuing to try and get to them.

Suddenly, Percy heard a monstrous voice from beneath her feet—it simply chuckled, and the animals, too busy fighting each other, were unable to notice the voice that was goading them to fight harder. She tried to shout at them to stop, but her voice was lost in the storm.

The eagle suddenly swooped down towards the horse, its talons aiming for the horse's wide, terrified eyes.

No! Percy shouted, trying to get to them to stop. Too late.

She shot up in bed with a half-strangled gasp caught in her throat just as another crack of thunder echoed on the beach. She tried to calm her racing heart, but it was no use. The storm hadn't been a dream. Lightning and thunder flashed outside, and the rain was relentless. The ocean was acting up too—even from this distance, Percy could hear the waves roaring and mercilessly slamming into anything within its reach.

The next clap of thunder was enough to wake her mother up, who sat right up in bed, eyes wide. "Storm," she said.

It was insane. Long Island never saw storms this early in the summer. And yet, it seemed as though nature was defying its own evidence because it was definitely a hurricane outside.

Then there was a loud banging sound, and Percy jumped. Someone was yelling through a door. The front door, she realized. Her mother leapt out of bed and rushed toward it.

Percy yelped at the sight, because it was Grover, but it… also wasn't.

"O Zeu kai alloi theoi! I've been searching all night!" he cried, wringing his hands. "It's right behind me! What were you thinking?"

But Percy couldn't do much more than stare at him, mouth hanging open. She didn't even register that he had spoken in ancient Greek, and she had understood him perfectly.

"Percy!" Her mother's voice, though frightened, was stern and commanding. "Tell me, what happened? What happened at school?"

Somehow, despite her brain having shut down, she managed to stammer out something about Mrs. Dodds and the three old ladies at the fruit stand.

"Percy." Her mother's voice was calm but deadly. "Get your jacket. We're leaving."

She didn't need to be told twice. She grabbed her blue rain jacket and the three of them ran for the car, but Grover wasn't exactly running. He was trotting, shaking his furry hindquarters, either oblivious to or ignoring Percy's still stunned expression. Everything about his backstory—the disease in his legs—suddenly made sense. Like how he managed to run during enchilada day and still limp whenever he wanted.

Because where his feet were supposed to be were only cloven hooves.

Wow, I made you guys wait a long time for this chapter, and yet, it wasn't that good. Sorry about that. I've been pretty terrible with updates, but because the Minotaur chapter is one of the shortest in this book, hopefully it won't take me too long to write it up? I just really want to get to the Camp Half-Blood scenes.