house of cards
❛ ii. the key to lying? ❜

━━━━━ GENNA WAS CONFIDENT about a lot of things, probably to a fault. She was confident that she was one of the most annoying people alive (though she would never say that to anyone, in fear they would agree and just be unable to be that vulnerable with someone). She was overly confident that she was one of the best archers at Camp Half-Blood — even rubbed it in Michael Yew's face just to piss him off. She was extremely confident that she was also a great liar — and the key to lying was confidence!

               And now Genna was extremely confident that this was going to end one of two ways —Percy Jackson getting expelled, or Genna Archer killing Percy Jackson before he could get expelled.

               Now more than ever was Percy grinding Genna's gears. (And that was saying something considering she often slammed his head into bus windows.)

               Part of it had to do with his attitude — the more time that passed, the more annoying he became. Crankier and more irritable, often regaling fights even when Genna wasn't trying to annoy him. And don't even get Genna started about the number of times Percy and Nancy Bobofit had fights!

               And the other part had to do with Percy no longer being as easy to fool. One; Percy had seen Mrs. Dodds turn into some monstrous appearance and then killed said Mrs. Dodds. That would fuck with any kid, and that means he was starting to see past the Mist more. And once someone started seeing past the Mist, there was very little they could do to change that. And two; Genna's confidence was waning. And the key to lying was confidence. Percy was only making it worse by being a total pain in the ass every time she would try and make a lie, too.

               The only thing keeping her from ripping hair out was watching Percy interact with the mortals who were completely fooled by the Mist. For the rest of the school year, the entire campus but Genna, Grover, Percy, and Chiron completely believed that Mrs. Kerr — a perky blonde woman — had been their math teacher since Christmas.

               Genna hated to admit it, but all her classmates were probably the only thing still convincing Percy that Mrs. Dodds wasn't ever a thing ... Except for Grover.

               Percy would still spring a Mrs. Dodds reference on one of their classmates, maybe just to test the waters to see if it was all some elaborate prank, but the other student would just stare like Percy lost his mind. Don't get Genna wrong; she did get quite a few good laughs watching it all happen.

               But Grover ...

               The thing was, he was a horrible liar. No matter how much Genna tried to help or coach him, he just couldn't do it. ("I can't lie to my best friend like that, Genna!" he would insist.

               "But lying is what's going to be best for Percy!" she would insist back.

               Grover hugged his stomach. "I can't do it! How do you do it?"

               "Easily." Genna shrugged. "Just stop thinking. That's what I do."

               "That's not good advice." The satyr shook his head.)

               But Grover still couldn't do it. Whenever Percy would mention the name Dodds to the satyr, Grover would hesitate, then claim she never existed.

               The freak weather only continued. Genna didn't know what was causing it, but she was sure it had to do with the gods. It always had to do with the gods. One night, a thunderstorm blew out the windows in some dorm rooms across Yancy Academy. A few days later, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the Hudson Valley touched down only fifty miles from the wretched school. One of the current events they were studying in social studies class was the unusual number of small planes that had gone down in sudden squalls in the Atlantic that year.

               The point is, the gods — probably Zeus or Poseidon — were throwing one of their infamous ... tantrums. And they were making it everybody's problem.

               And Percy Jackson was making his crappy moods everyone's problem, too. Genna saw his report cards — his grades were slipping from Ds to Fs. He got into more fights with Nancy Bobofit and her friends than ever (and spats with Genna more than ever, too; and this time she wasn't looking for arguments!) Percy was sent out into the hallway in almost every class.

               Finally, when their English teacher, Mr. Nicoll (the one Genna told to go suck a dick), asked Percy for the millionth time why he was too lazy to study for spelling tests, the boy snapped. Percy called the teacher an old sot. Genna wasn't even sure what it meant, but she figured Percy was going for plain old insulting over grammatically insulting.

               From what Grover told Genna, the headmaster sent Percy's mom a letter the following week, making it official: Percy Jackson would not be invited back next year to Yancy Academy.

♤

The evening before the Latin final, Genna, Grover, and Chiron were sitting in Chiron's office. For once, it wasn't because Genna was in trouble for something. No, this time it was to discuss everything else going on. Mainly to do with Percy.

               "I'm worried about Percy, sir," admitted Grover, wringing his rasta cap through his hands. Vaguely, just over the ends of the satyr's curly hair, could Genna see the tip of horns. "I don't want him to be alone this summer. I mean, a Kindly One in the school! Now that we know for sure, and they know too —"

               "We would only make matters worse by rushing him," Chiron said. "We need the boy to mature more."

               Like he was just some food, Genna thought. No one ever gets enough time to mature before being thrown into the world of the gods.

               "But what if there isn't that kind of time?" Genna countered, raising her eyebrows. "I mean, the weather? Something's wrong and they're angry."

               Grover nodded along adamantly. "And the summer solstice deadline —" Whatever he was going to say, he didn't finish.

               Genna's brows furrowed. "Deadline? What deadline?" she asked forcefully, narrowing her eyes on her satyr friend. It was easier getting answers out of him than it was for Chiron.

               But the centaur only ignored her. "It will have to be resolved without him. Let him enjoy his ignorance while he still can."

               Genna scoffed. "I doubt there's much time for that anymore. He saw her."

               "Imagination, Genna," Chiron insisted. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince him of that."

               "But it hasn't been enough!" Genna argued. "You know how many times Percy's sprung Mrs. Dodds this, and Mrs. Dodds that on us? And the way he looks at Mrs. Kerr ..." She trailed off and sighed, rubbing at her eyes. She didn't want to be a part of this, knowing it was only easier to stay back at Camp Half-Blood, where the only thing she did there was annoy people and train.

               Grover's face looked worse than Genna's mood (which was horrible, mind you). "Sir, I ... I can't fail in my duties again." His voice was choked with emotion. "You know what that would mean."

               "You haven't failed, Grover," Chiron said kindly. "I should have seen her for what she was. Now let's just worry about keeping Percy alive until next autumn —"

               There was a loud crash from down the hall.

               Instinctively, Genna reached for the gold pocket-sized multitool kit — the Celestial bronze, leather-wrapped item that gave her a few options for how to skewer people; Genna's most preferred being her bow.

               All three of them went silent, unsheating weapons. A bow shimmered into Genna's hand — a Celestial bronze recurve bow intricately designed with carvings of mercury leaves along the limbs of the bow. Chiron took out his own archer bow and Grover grabbed his reed pipes.

               Chiron slipped out of his wheelchair, his horse half making him much taller and much more scarier. He slipped towards the glass of his office door, peering outside. Then he slipped the rest of his body out there, Genna and Grover trailing to the door and watching him.

               For a few seconds, Genna watched and waited — maybe for Chiron to make a signal that something was out there — but the centaur only sighed and turned back around.

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

               "Mine neither," said Grover. "But I could have sworn ..."

               "You smell something?" asked Genna, slipping her bow back into the multitool kit and sliding it back in her pocket.

               "Go back to the dorm," Chiron told the two. "You've got a long day of exams tomorrow."

               Genna grimaced. "Don't remind me ..."

               Chiron smiled. "I do expect you to pass my exam, Genna."

               "Yeah, yeah." She waved her hand. "Be hard not to, when my own dad is ... you know."

               The lights went out in Chiron's office, and Genna and Grover were kicked out.

               "I'm still jealous at how good you are at Latin," admitted Grover as they trailed back to their dorms.

               Genna shrugged. "Don't know why I am. Have those little study sessions not been helping?"

               "You've spent most of the time arguing with Percy than actually helping ..."

               She rolled her eyes. "That's because Percy won't just listen to me."

               "That's because you call him every name under the sun, Genna."

               "And I enjoy doing it!"

♤

The next afternoon, Genna was suffering from serious back pain. The longer she sat through the three-hour exam, the more determined she became to fucking with the principal's chair. If he could have that nice, cushioned chair, then they should all have one.

               She stalled on the last question for thirty minutes, watching the back of Percy's head like she could see inside (or like she was falling asleep, which was more accurate).

               She blinked awake once he stood up, his exam clutched tightly in his hand. Even from where she sat, Genna could see on the front page the amount of Greek and Roman names he had misspelled (it made her go back and look at her own spellings). When she looked up, Chiron was calling Percy back to his desk.

               "Percy," the teacher said under his breath, but the quiet classroom could still hear him. "Don't be discouraged about leaving Yancy. It's ... it's for the best."

               His tone was kind, but the word choice was horrible. But that's how most of his "pep talks" went — he tried encouraging you, but his tone made it sound like you were about to meet Death himself. And Genna wasn't the only one able to hear Chiron; three seats in front of her and one row aside, Nancy Bobofit smirked at Percy and started making ugly kissing noises with her mouth. Genna's lip curled and she grabbed a discarded pencil and aimed for Nancy's head.

               Percy turned around as the pencil made a dull thunk! against the back of Nancy's head. He didn't even look amused at all. He glanced at Genna, as if expecting her to start laughing. When she gave him an awkward, tight-lipped smile he turned back to Chiron. "Okay, sir." He nodded at the centaur.

               "I mean ..." Chiron wheeled his chair back and forth, looking for a way to redeem himself. "This isn't the right place for you. It was only a matter of time."

               Genna winced. Even from where she sat, she could see the red seeping into the skin on the back of Percy's neck. He was beyond embarrassed, and Genna didn't blame him.

               "Right," Percy said, starting to bounce on the balls of his feet.

               "No, no." Chiron shook his head. "Oh, confound it all. What I'm trying to say ... you're not normal, Percy. That's nothing to be —"

               "Thanks," the boy blurted. "Thanks a lot, sir, for reminding me."

               "Percy —"

               But the boy was already gone.

               Genna gathered her exam, scrawling in the last answer. She held it out to Chiron, who gave her a look as he grabbed it.

               "I fear I didn't help him," said the centaur.

               The daughter of Hermes raised her eyebrows. "You think? Chi — Brunner, telling any kid that they're not normal is going to fuck with them."

               "Miss Archer — language," warned the teacher.

               "I'm just saying it how it is!"

♤

On the last day of term, Genna practically bounced off the walls. The excitement to get back to Camp was eating away at her.

               Her dormmates were joking around, talking about their vacation plans. One of them was going on a hiking trip to Switzerland. Another was cruising the Caribbean for a month. They were juvenile delinquents, like Genna, but they were rich juvenile delinquents ... which Genna was, too.

               (The only difference between them was — well, there were two differences. One; these girls had two mortal parents. And two; they hadn't been disowned the way Genna probably had been by her mom.)

               To seem nice, the other girls would ask what Genna would be doing, and she answered: "A summer camp for my dad's side of the family."

               Wasn't the total truth, but wasn't a total lie. The perfect kind of lie.

               "Oh," said Emma. "That's ... cool."

               Then the conversation continued, as if Genna wasn't there at all. She was okay with that, knowing how hard it would be to skate around the truth of it all. The fact that the summer camp Genna was going to attend for her dad's side of the family was a summer camp for a bunch of half-god preteens and teens who had to train in order to have any chance at survival.

               The fact that Genna had to stay year-round at the summer camp because her mother was ... well, Genna didn't know. And the fact that Genna's mortal family — the Archers — had all sorts of money, but that she had no access to. That the Archers were all sorts of successful — ranging from doctors, to surgeons, to sculpters, to musicians, to performers. And the fact that Genna Archer seemed to be the biggest disgrace to such an esteemed family; how could a successful attorney like Nora Archer have a child like Genevieve Archer, a troubled kid who seemed to have her heart set on being a petty thief before anything else?

               Just like a house of cards — it was all bound to fall. Of course there was going to be a disgraceful Archer, Genna just hated that it had to be her.

♤

Genna was shipped off back to Camp Half-Blood at the end of the day. And she was perfectly fine with that.

               Chiron thought it would be bad to let Genna accompany Grover in taking Percy into the city. She couldn't exactly tell if he thought it was a bad idea because that would mean two demigods and a satyr all huddled together, or because it was Genna Archer he would be letting lose in New York City. Either way, she figured Chiron had a reason to not let her go. Plus, it was Grover's assignment to protect Percy, not Genna's assignment.

               The welcome back to Camp was alright. Not particularly welcoming, but not unfriendly either — except for Annabeth Chase bombarding her about what the mortal world was like.

               Annabeth Chase, a daughter of Athena and the head counselor for Cabin Six at only twelve, was ... desperate to see the mortal world. And that was Genna putting it nicely. (If she didn't put it nicely, she'd be saying that Annabeth was getting on her last fucking nerve — and the blonde was.) Annabeth was one of the longest-attending campers, along with Genna's half-brother Luke, and was praised for her strategic mind and talent with a dagger — an unlikely weapon that encouraged her to be fast on her feet and with her mind. The daughter of Athena was tall and dark-skinned, with curly black hair that she styled into braids with blonde braiding extensions.

               "What was it like?" she asked Genna as the daughter of Hermes climbed the tall hill.

               "Stinky," answered Genna easily. "Do you know how much twelve-year-old boys stink?"

               "Obviously." Annabeth rolled her eyes. "We have them at Camp."

               "C'mon." Genna lugged some of her suitcases out of the van. "Since you're over here — you can pack these."

               Annabeth curled her nose, but grabbed one of Genna's suitcases. "How's that boy — the one Grover found."

               "Annoying."

               "So, like you?" The blonde gave Genna a grin.

               "Ha-ha." Genna sneered. "If possible, he's more annoying than I am."

               Annabeth only raised her eyebrows. "I don't believe you."

               Genna took her bag. "Believe it, Annabeth."

               "And Grover?" Annabeth trailed after Genna, who started the trek down to all the cabins.

               The redhead shrugged. "Alright. As anxious as ever. Seriously, he needs to be medicated."

               "I'm pretty sure satyrs can't take medication like that." Annabeth frowned. "I think it has to do with DNA ..."

               "Don't start on all that mumbo jumbo now." Genna rolled her eyes. "I've heard it all year at that stupid Yancy Academy."

               Annabeth cracked a smile as she opened the door to Cabin Eleven for Genna. "Welcome back home, then."

               "Genna?" A brown-haired boy poked his head out from behind one of the dirtier bunks of the crowded cabin. His blue eyes twinkled as the ends of his hair fell in his face.  "Genna!"

               Connor launched himself past the bunk and hugged his younger sister. His gangly limbs practically swallowed Genna whole and their brother, Travis, looked over. He grinned when he noticed Genna. He pushed Connor, his full-blooded sibling aside, and hugged Genna.

               During all this, the redhead was yelling complaints. "Let go of me! You both stink like sweat!"

               Travis's grin widened and he let go of Genna. "'Course. We just got back from sword practice."

               Genna grumbled under her breath about hygiene and tossed her bags on her bunk. But before she could get comfortable, Luke appeared beside Annabeth, who froze and then quickly started fixing her hair. (Genna always gagged at the fact that Annabeth liked Luke. It was just so gross, Genna's own brother? Ew!)

               "Hey, Genna!" Luke stopped beside her and slung an arm over her shoulder. "How was that school?"

               "Horrible. Didn't learn a thing." Genna danced out of Luke's grip. "Spent the whole time trying not to fight people."

               "Yeah, about fighting — you need to practice," said Luke. "It's been months since you've been to any kind of sword practice."

               "But I use a bow," Genna protested, stomping her foot.

               "And you need to be decent at using swords," insisted Luke. "You know, dire situations. Was Yancy bad? Anything dangerous? You didn't say much in any of the letters you sent."

               "Oh, Yancy was super bad — incredibly dire." Genna rolled her eyes. "You know what happened? A math test came alive and started chasing me around to solve what the hypotenuse was!"

♤

Percy Jackson's mind wandered off like the never-ending sea. Maybe it was the ADHD, maybe it was all the shit going wrong in his life — perhaps it was both.

               Was he a troubled kid? ... You could say he was.

               It wasn't like he wanted to be one, okay? Most of the time, it was never his fault. He never wanted to cause as much trouble as he did. Especially when it all fell on his mom's shoulders to clean up his messes.

               This year, Percy had been determined to not be kicked out of Yancy Academy. He wanted to stay in this school, despite all the ups and downs, there were plenty of ups to it. He had Grover, his best friend. Even Genna made him laugh here and there — and with her having ADHD and dyslexia like him, it made him feel just a little less weird. There was Mr. Brunner, too — the only teacher who never made Percy feel like he was just a dumb kid with dyslexia and ADHD.

               Until he vaporized his pre-algebra teacher. Turns out she just didn't seem like a monster — she quite literally was. But no one believed him. Percy was sure that Mrs. Dodds was real, and that she had been one of the math teachers at Yancy Academy. Mrs. Dodds turned into this leathery, ugly monster and tried to kill Percy over something he didn't even understand. Then came Mr. Brunner who tossed him a pen — a pen! — that magically grew into this gold sword that vaporized the math teacher from Georgia.

               And despite what Percy knew, everyone said that Mrs. Dodds had never existed.

               Despite feeling like he was going insane, Percy knew that Grover, Genna, and Mr. Brunner had been talking about him — about Mrs. Dodds and Percy killing his own math teacher.

               Percy was just relieved to finally be in Montauk. He'd been going to this little cabin on the south shore with his mom since he was a baby — before he could even remember, and his mom had been going here even longer. The cabin wasn't much; a little pastel box with faded curtains, half sunken into the dunes, sand in the sheets, and spiders in the cabinets (and the water was always way too cold to swim in), but it was Percy's home away from home. He loved the place.

               His mom loved it just as much as he did, Percy could tell. She seemed to grow younger simply being there; years of worry and work disappeared from her face. Her eyes turned the color of the sea, too. Percy's mom — Sally Jackson — was the best mom, and she was more than that. Probably one of the best people on the planet — and despite that, the world had given her such a horrible set of cards to play through the world with. Her parents — Percy's grandparents — had died in a plane crash when she was just five, and so she was raised by her uncle who didn't care much about her. Percy didn't know the whole story, but he knew that his mom didn't have the best childhood. But he did know that she wanted to write a novel, so throughout high school, she worked to save enough money for college to get into a creative writing program. Until her uncle got cancer and she had to quit school in her senior year to take care of him. After he died, she was left with no money, no family, and no diploma.

               She was always looking after people instead of looking after herself. Especially Percy. And he never made it easy, no matter how hard he tried.

               The only time she got a good break in her life — where something nice finally was dealt — was when Sally met Percy's dad.

               Percy didn't remember his dad. He didn't have any memories, except for one: a warm glow, like he was standing on a golden beach in the summer. And the smile — Percy had the barest traces of a memory ... or maybe it was only his imagination. His mom didn't talk about him much, only really made her sad when she occasionally did so. There were no pictures of Percy's father either. And his parents had never been married.

               No matter how stupid it felt, Percy was angry at his father. If only he hadn't gone on that stupid voyage out to sea, maybe he would've worked up the guts to give the life Sally deserved. But — Percy's dad didn't. He left, and that meant they were stuck with Smelly Gabe.

               His mom worked odd jobs, took night classes to get her G.E.D., and raised Percy on her own. Even if she was technically married, Gabe never lifted a finger except to ... except to treat them terribly. They were both just problems to Sally, but she never got mad. Never complained, no matter what happened.

               Percy loved Montauk. Here, he and his mom could finally get away from it all. Where they could make a fire after dark and roast hot dogs and marshmallows. Where Percy could snack on all the blue candies Sally brought back home from her job in a candy store. The longer they sat in front of the fire, the more Percy breathed in the smell of the ocean. Despite what he wanted his brain to do, it wandered back to the sea.

               His mother always said that Percy's father was lost at sea. Not that he was dead, but lost at sea. He didn't really believe his mom, always thought she was just protecting his feelings. But if his father was lost at sea, then maybe some part of him that was there — with Percy and his mother.

               He pursed his lips, turning the marshmallow, watching as it started to brown on the outside. He took another glance at his mother and worked up the nerve to finally ask the question that always bugged him when they were in Montauk — questions about his father.

               Sally's eyes went misty, like an ocean's fog, when she talked about his dad. Percy figured his mom would tell him the same things again, but he never got tired of hearing them.

               "He was kind, Percy," his mom said. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle, too. You have his black hair, you know, and his green eyes." She fished a blue jelly bean out of her candy bag. "I wish he could see you, Percy. He would be so proud."

               Proud of what? Percy thought. There wasn't anything to be proud of. He was just another troubled young boy who had nothing going for him. He was a  dyslexic, hyperactive boy with a D+ report card, kicked out of every school he ever attended.

               "How old was I?" he asked. "I mean ... when he left?"

               She watched the flames. "He was only with me for one summer, Percy. Right here at this beach. This cabin."

               "But ... he knew me as a baby."

               "No, honey. He knew I was expecting a baby, but he never saw you. He had to leave before you were born."

               Percy didn't want to believe that. Not when he had that memory — that warm glow. That smile ... But what he always knew in the back of his head was confirmed. His dad never met him. Percy had just been hoping for anything — grasping for a connection that was never there. His eyes wandered back to the endless ocean that was now as dark as the night sky above. He could hear it — raging out there, crashing against the bank of sand.

               "Are you going to send me away again?" Percy looked back to his mom, hoping he hid the lump in his throat well. "To another boarding school?"

               His mom pulled a marshmallow from the fire; Percy realized he burnt his own, the smell hitting his nose like a baseball. "'I don't know, honey." Her voice was heavy. "I think ... I think we'll have to do something."

               The lump in his throat grew bigger. "Because you don't want me around?"

               He regretted it as soon as he said it. His mom's eyes welled with tears. She shook her head and grasped Percy's hand, squeezing it tight. "Oh, Percy, no. I — I have to, honey. For your own good. I have to send you away."

               Percy swallowed back his tears. His mother's words reminded him of what Mr. Brunner had said — that it was best for him to leave Yancy.

               "Because I'm not normal," he muttered.

               "You say that as if it's a bad thing, Percy. But you don't realize how important you are. I thought Yancy Academy would be far enough away. I thought you'd finally be safe."

               "Safe from what?"

               She met Percy's eyes, and a flood of memories came back to him — all the memories he tried to forget: the scary, weird things that had happened to him. During third grade, a man in a black trench coat had stalked him on the playground. When the teachers threatened to call the police, he went away growling, but no one believed Percy when he said that under his broad-brimmed hat, the man only had one eye, right in the middle of his head. Even earlier — a really early memory, Percy had to think hard about to remember — in preschool, a teacher accidentally put him down for a nap in a cot that a snake had slithered into. Percy's mom screamed when she came to pick him up and found him playing with a limp, scaly rope he'd somehow managed to strangle to death with his meaty toddler hands.

               It seemed that every school Percy attended, something creepy had happened, something unsafe, and he was forced to move.

               (Percy knew he should be telling his mom about Mrs. Dodds and the old ladies at the fruit stand, but he couldn't bring himself to. He didn't want to ruin the trip to Montauk.)

               "I've tried to keep you as close to me as I could," his mom said. "They told me that was a mistake. But there's only one other option, Percy — the place your father wanted to send you. And I just ... I just can't stand to do it."

               "My father wanted me to go to a special school?"

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

               Percy's head was spinning. Why would his dad — who hadn't even stayed around long enough to see him born — talk to his mom about a summer camp? And if it was so important, why hadn't she ever mentioned it before? "A summer camp?"

               "I'm sorry, Percy," she said, seeing the look in his eyes. "But I can't talk about it. I — I couldn't send you to that place. It might mean saying goodbye to you for good."

               "For good? But if it's only a summer camp ..."

               She turned towards the fire, and Percy knew from her expression that if he asked her any more questions, she would start to cry.

♤

That night, he had the weirdest dream.

               It was storming on the beach, and two beautiful animals, a white horse and a golden eagle, were trying to kill each other at the edge of the surf. The eagle swooped down and slashed the horse's muzzle with its huge talons. The horse reared up and kicked at the eagle's wings. As they fought, the ground rumbled, and a monstrous voice chuckled somewhere beneath the earth, goading the animals to fight harder.

               Percy ran towards them, somehow knowing he had to stop them from killing each other. Weird dream logic? But it was like he was running in slow motion. He would never make it in time to stop the animals from killing each other.

               Halfway there, he saw the eagle dive downward, its beak aimed at the horse's wide eyes, and Percy screamed, No!

               He woke with a start.

               He breathed heavily, sitting up in his bed and brushing his hair out of his face. Outside, it really was storming — the kind of storm that cracks trees and blows down houses. There was no horse or eagle on the beach, just lightning making false daylight, and fifteen-foot-high waves pounding the dunes like artillery.

               At the next thunderous roar — a crack of lightning that was more like a gunshot — Percy's mother woke. She sat up, eyes wide, and said, "Hurricane."

               Percy thought that was crazy. Long Island never saw hurricanes this early in the summer. But the ocean seemed to have forgotten. Over the roar of the wind, Percy heard a distant bellow — an angry, tortured sound that made his hair stand on end.

               Then a much closer noise, like mallets in the sand. A desperate voice — someone yelling, pounding on their cabin door.

               Percy's mother sprang out of bed in her nightgown and threw open the lock.

               Grover stood framed in the doorway against a backdrop of pouring rain. But he wasn't ... he wasn't exactly Grover. Percy couldn't help but stare. His best friend's black, curly hair was flat against his forehead, drenched from all the rain, and so were his clothes. His eyes were wide and — and —

               "Searching all night," he gasped. "What were you thinking?"

               Sally looked at her son in terror — not scared of Grover, but of why he'd come.

               "Percy," she said, shouting to be heard over the rain. "What happened at school? What didn't you tell me?"

               Percy was frozen, looking at Grover; he didn't move, he didn't answer. Part of him wondered if he was still dreaming.

               Grover threw his hands up in frustration. "O Zeu kai alloi theoi!" he yelled. "It's right behind me! Didn't you tell her?"

               Percy continued to gap, struggling to comprehend the fact his best friend just swore in Ancient Greek (and that Percy actually understood him). He was too shocked to wonder how Grover found them — how he had gotten all the way to Montauk all by himself, in the middle of the night, no less.

               Grover didn't have his pants on — and where his legs should be ... where his legs should be ...

               Sally Jackson turned to her son and gave him a stern look. She talked to him in a tone she had never used before: "Percy. Tell me now!"

               He stammered a weak story about old ladies at the fruit stand, and Mrs. Dodds, and his mom stared at him, her face deathly pale in the flashes of lightning.

               She grabbed her purse, tossed Percy a rain jacket, and said, "Get to the car. Both of you. Go!"

               Grover ran for the Camaro — but he wasn't running, exactly. He was trotting, shaking his shaggy hindquarters, and suddenly Genna and his explanation about a muscular disorder in his legs made total sense. Percy understood how Grover could run so fast and still limp when he walked.

               Because where Grover's feet should be, there were no feet. There were cloven hooves.

♤ OCT. 14TH, 2023 / this chapter feels boring as fuck - it's probably not, but it feels it

percy pov's - yes yes!! a lot sooner than any of my other percy fics actually,, from what i remember (which - my memory is horrible) when didn't get a percy pov in royal cries until ,, talk with aphrodite in the junkyard (i think) and for on this spring day it wasn't until ogygia

so yes, percy pov's here and there - i like sprinkling them in to see how genna affects his pov (and so you can see him crush HARD on her later on huhuhu)

i was thinking about this while writing genna arriving back at camp - genna and annabeth have such a different dynamic/relationship compared to any of my other ocs; like elisa and anna became friends by studying the labyrinth together; violet and anna were friends before on this spring day ever started; posie and anna were "acquaintances" bc posie can't read relationships for the life of her (they were friends, posie just had no clue-)

but genna and annabeth are not like that - yes, later on they'll be best friends (and will be the biggest gossipers at chb), but now they're just ... cordial? they're not like clarisse and annabeth, where they can barely work together - it's a weird dynamic where annabeth hangs around cabin eleven often because she likes luke (i think she does that anyway) so that means genna and anna see a lot of each other, but they're not friends at all - they sort of just deal with the other because they both live at camp (and chb is only so big)

anyways, i think it'll be interesting to explore and progress their relationship as we continue through the acts