Percy Jackson

The rest of the year was really weird.

I'm used to the occasional weird experience, but they usually ended almost as soon as they started.

This felt like I was hallucinating 24/7, and it was driving me nuts. I'd gotten a psychiatrist referral from my counselor a month after the field trip because "there was no Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy". It was like she vanished, and when she turned to dust, so did everyone else's memories of her.

I was almost convinced myself. Maybe I did make her up. Why else would everyone state at me like I'm psychotic?

Why would my counselor and my parole officer refer me to a psychologist that specializes in hallucinations?

Grover couldn't fool me, though. Every time I mentioned the name Dodds, he'd claim she doesn't exist only after hesitating. He's never been a good liar, and that hasn't changed.

Something happened at the museum. Something was going on.

Something Grover knew about.

I didn't have a lot of time to think about it, the closer to the end of the school year that we got, but at night, the memories haunted me. Mrs. Dodds charging me, her talons and fangs (how did she have those?) trying to slice away at me. To kill me, probably.

Her screaming give it back, but I hadn't stolen anything. I wasn't a thief.

The freak weather carried on the rest of the semester— there was a really big tornado in the Hudson Valley only a few days after the wind blew one of my windows out in the dorm. A lot more boats were going down in the ocean.

Between the bad weather and the constant hallucinating I was doing, I became more irritable and cranky. I fought with kids more— mostly Nancy. Got sent into the halls for most classes at least once a day. My grades started to slip from Ds and Cs to Fs and one D (thanks to Mr. Bruners generosity). But that didn't stop me getting kicked out of class daily.

Sometimes more.

In May, my English teacher, Mr. Nicoll asked me why I was too lazy to study for our spelling tests, and I snapped. I didn't know that it meant, but I called him an old sot and excused myself.

Sure, I'd failed the last half dozen spelling tests we had, but between three ADHD, Dyslexia, and Schizophrenia or Psychosis or whatever it is, maybe his expectations shouldn't have been so high.

After that, the headmaster sent the letter to my mom to confirm what we all knew was inevitable: I wasn't welcome back at Yancy Academy for Troubled Students next year.

I was expelled.

Which made six schools now. I'm six years.

Fine, I told myself. Just fine. I didn't like Yancy anyways.

I was homesick.

I wanted to be with my mom in our little apartment on the Upper East Side, even if it meant putting up with my obnoxious, awful stepfather, Gabe, and his stupid poker parties.

And yet, there were things I'd miss at Yancy. The view of the woods from my dorm, the smell of the pine wafting through the whole school.

I'd miss Grover, who had been a good friend, even if he was a bit odd. I was worried about how he'd survive next year.

Latin was probably the last thing I'd miss. It was the only final I studied for, and while I'm sure I bombed it, I couldn't not put in at least some effort after what happened at the MET.

It pissed me off, but I guess it worked. I tried harder in Bruner's class than any other one.

I hadn't forgotten what he mentioned about this knowledge being life or death. I didn't understand it, but I didn't forget.

The night before the exam, I got so frustrated with my dyslexia and with education as a whole while studying they I threw our textbook across the dorm and decided to take a lap around campus to calm down. Grover had been gone for a while, as well, and I was starting to worry that someone had happened to him.

I'll only accept the best from you, Percy Jackson.

Stopping, I took in a breath, picked up the book and made my way towards faculty offices. Mr. Bruner would be crazy to still be working, but he's nothing if not dedicated to his job.

Maybe I could get some pointers from him, or maybe I could at least apologize for the big fat F I was going to get on the test.

Walking downstairs, most of the rooms we're dark with the exception of one: Mr. Bruner's office. His light was on, door ajar, but there were some... Sweetie shadows being cast down the hallway.

I was three steps from the door handle when I heard a voice that made me stop.

"—worried about Percy, sir."

Grover?

Did he...

Did he leave our room to talk to Bruner about me?

Looking down, I tried to focus on their conversation. I'm not usually an eavesdropper, but I dare you to not do it when your best friend mentions your name to a teacher.

I inches closer to hear better.

"—alone this summer," Grover continued. "I mean, a Kindly One in the school!? Now that we know for sure, and that they know, too..."

"We would only make matters worse by rushing him." Mr. Bruner insisted. "He needs more time, Grover. He needs to mature more."

Are...

Me?

Am I not... I know that I've caused fights but I'm not... Mature?

Should I be mature? I'm only 12.

"But, sir, the summer solstice—"

"Will be solved without him," our teacher said. "Let him enjoy his ignorance while he still can, Grover."

"But he... He may not have time, sir, he—" Grover cut himself short. "He saw her."

"What? His imagination," but it was as if Grover confirmed my suspicions that Mrs. Dodds was real and Mr. Bruner was still insisting on gaslighting us, which made no sense. "The Mist and the others will convince him of that."

Because they've done a wonderful job at that, I thought to myself.

"Sir, I..." Grover's voice cracked (which it did a lot, but this was more of an emotional crack, not a puberty crack). "I can't fail my duties again, I... You know what would happen if..."

"You haven't failed, Grover," but the more I listened, the less things made sense. "I should have seen her for what she was. For now let's just worry about keeping Percy alive until next fall—"

So Bruner admits she's real.

Just not around me.

My book slipped from my fingers, hitting the ground and forcing my heart to speed.

Bruner and Grover fell silent.

I picked up the book and backed down the hall, hiding by the staircase.

After that a weird shadow slipped across the light— way too tall for a normal person, holding something that resembled a bow rather than Bruner's usual sword. I heard the clop-clop-clop of hooves, saw a dark shape pause by the door, and then go back from whence it came.

I felt a bead of sweat trickle down my neck.

"Nothing." Mr. Bruner said from somewhere in the hallway. "Hm. My nerves haven't been right since the solstice."

"Me neither," Grover agreed. "but I could swear..."

"Go back to your dorm," Mr. Bruner instructed. "You've got a long day of exams tomorrow."

There was a pause just long enough for me to roll my eyes.

"Don't remind me." Grover said.

The lights went out in the office, and I waited a few moments before bounding up the stairs.

Grover had beat me to my room, sitting on his bed looking bleary-eyed and tired, as if he'd been studying all night.

That little liar (that I'll miss a lot).

"Hey," he welcomed me. "you gonna be ready for the test?"

I didn't answer.

"You look... Awful." Grover added on. "Everything okay?"

I wonder if he'll ever think about me again after this spring.

"Just... Tired."

I turned away so he couldn't read my expression and got ready for bed. It's a tactic I use frantically.

Not always with Grover, but just... In general.

Maybe I do have another mental disorder. Maybe they're right and I am more fucked up than I realized I am.

I didn't understand what I'd overheard downstairs, and I wanted to believe I'd made the whole thing up like everyone insisted I did with Dodds, but I couldn't shake how real it felt.

One thing was clear, though: Grover and Mr. Bruner were talking about me behind my back. Because they thought I was in some kind of danger.

•••

I hope the person who implemented 3 hour class and test sessions is rotting in hell.

By the time I finished my Latin exam, my eyes were like a pool with all of the names and dates of Roman and Greek heroes and events I'd misspelled floating inside. As I went to leave, though, Mr. Bruner called me back inside.

My initial fear was that he found out about my eavesdropping, but that wasn't the problem.

"Percy," Mr. Bruner said in a tone that could've been quieter, considering the other test takers. "don't be discouraged about leaving Yancy. It's... For the best."

Really? I thought to myself. You want to have this discussion in front of everyone right now?

His tone was kind, sure, but it was still embarrassing. Nancy Bobofit smirked and made a little kissy noise (ew).

"Okay, sir."

As if that changed the reality.

"I mean..." He wheeled his chair back want forth, as if he didn't know what to say. If he should say more. "This isn't the place for you. It was only a matter of time."

It was only a matter of time.

Before I got in trouble.

Before I went insane.

Before I got kicked out.

Before my will to live ran out.

My eyes stung.

Here was my favorite teacher of all time, of all six schools I've attended, telling me that I was destined to get kicked out of school. In front of the class.

After spending nine months telling me he believed in me, and almost six months of insisting he'd only accept the best from me, it suddenly didn't matter. I was destined to get kicked out.

It was another lie.

"Right," I agreed, my voice trembling.

"No, no," but too late he realized the intent of his words. "Oh, confound it all. What I'm trying to say... you're not normal, Percy. That's nothing to be—"

Like I don't fucking know?

Like it doesn't taunt, haunt, and follow me everything I go?

"Thanks," I blurted, cutting him off. "Thanks a lot, sir. For reminding me."

I hate it here.

"Percy—"

But I was already gone.

I'll only accept the best from you— you're not normal.

Because it wasn't enough that those thoughts prevented me from sleeping late in the night.

It's not like I'd been told the latter my entire life.

Getting back to the dorm, my frustrations boiled over in the form of me punching the wall.

I'm surprised it didn't break my hand, being brick and all.

Grover walked back into a pity party. I was just laying on my bed, feeling sorry for myself as I iced my hand with ice that somehow hadn't melted yet after a half hour.

"Hey, I'm ba—" Grover announced as he closed the door to our room and fell silent, probably seeing me.

He's never going to talk to you after you leave Yancy.

"Percy?" But because he's my best friend, he didn't even think about that before limping over to the space between our beds and crouching down. "Hey, man, what happened?"

I shrugged.

"I punched the wall."

Assuming I'd elaborate, Grover took a while to respond.

I didn't elaborate.

"...why?" He asked. "did Nancy or any of the kids... I'm not a great punch, but if I need to—"

And I don't know if he was trying to make me laugh or smile by insisting that he could hold his own in a fight, but I cracked a smile and rolled my eyes.

"Please don't hurt yourself, Grover," I reassured him as he placed a hand on my shoulder that made too aware of the physical contact. "Nancy always makes comments, but it wasn't..."

I shrugged again, feeling useless. Helpless.

You're not normal, Percy... It was only a matter of time.

Before what? My expulsion? My psychotic break? Before everyone gave up on me?

"After I finished my Latin test, Bruner just... Yeah. I don't know."

But obviously Grover and Mr. Bruner are buddy-buddy, so he wanted to know more instead of leaving it be the way it was.

"Yeah?" And maybe it would kill me if I never had another friend that seemed to care like Grover did. "Did he say something about how you did on the test or...?

I shook my head, sitting up and scooting over so Grover could sit next to me, because while I may get in my fair share of fights, this was not the first time Grover's seen me like this.

It's not often, and usually it's right before I have to go home, but... I doubt he's noticed that pattern.

"So you know how he said that thing at the MET about only accepting my best?" I reminded my best friend. "and he's always been super adamant with me since the start of the year about being able to do well and always reminding me that he like, believed in me?"

Grover nodded.

"He..." My voice strained because it was stupid, but what Mr. Bruner said hurt me. "He told me to not be discouraged by being expelled, because it was, and I quote, it was for the best. It wasn't the place for me, and it was only a matter of time before I got kicked out. Because I'm... Not normal."

My friend stopped breathing momentarily, and a part of me wondered if what Mr. Bruner said has to do with his conversation with Grover.

"Oh." Grover responded, seeming at a loss for words. "I'm sorry, Percy, that's... I'm sure he didn't want to sound bad, but that's... Bad. But hey! On the bright side, you'll get to stay with your mom next year, right?"

I shrugged.

"If a school will take me." I answered. "Even though I'll probably have to retake sixth grade, which is... Dumb."

What I wouldn't give to have a working brain.

"School is dumb," Grover told me. "Go take a shower, those always make you feel better. I'll be right back."

I sighed, too dramatically.

"Fine, I'll take care of myself." I said as a half joke and stood up. "do you have another exam this late?"

"No, just late work to turn in," he insisted, holding up his bag. "I'll be back!"

And Grover's a bad liar, so it wasn't hard to tell that that was a lie, but I didn't want to fight him on it— especially if he was going to try and do something that would make me feel less shitty. So I just nodded and went to shower.

•••

On the last day of the term, I shoved all of my clothes in my suitcase.

The other guys in my class were talking and joking about their summer plans. Going on cruises, long road trips. One of them was going hiking in Switzerland. Like me, they were juvenile delinquents, sure.

But they were rich juvenile delinquents. Their daddies were executives, bankers, actors. CEOS.

I was a nobody from a family of nobodies.

I hadn't thought of it much, but Grover must also be a delinquent if he's here.

What did he do? Steal enchiladas?

I have no clue.

Maybe he planted something on private property.

Despite rooming together for nine months and being best friends, I was realizing that I knew surprisingly little about Grover's life outside of Yancy.

When they asked me what I was doing for the summer, I said I'd be going back to the city.

I left out the fact that I'd probably be looking for a job somebody would hire a 12, almost 13 year old for. Dog walking, maybe. Worrying about where I'd be going to school in the fall.

"Oh," he responded. "That's cool."

It was a lie worse than that of Grover Underwood's, but he turned back to his conversation like I didn't even exist, so it didn't matter.

The only person I dreaded saying goodbye to aas Grover, but it turned out that we were riding the same bus back into Manhattan, so I didn't have to do it as soon.

As we sat on the bus, I'd taken to trying to relax. Originally, I'd tried to lean against grover since he'd be a comfier pillow than the seats were, but he was really jittery.

I've noticed in the past that when we leave Yancy, he can be anxious or jittery. Like now, looking around the bus and up and down the aisles, as if he expected something bad to happen because we weren't at school. I'd assumed it had something to do with worrying about who would pick on him but... There was no other students on the Greyhound to pick on him.

Finally, I caved in to my curiosity.

"Looking for Kindly Ones?" I asked.

Grover nearly jumped out of his seat.

"Wh—what do you mean?"

Sighing, I confessed about eavesdropping on him and Bruner the other night.

After I finished, there was a beat of silence.

"How much did you hear?"

"Oh.. Not much," I insisted, though thought that it was more than I should've. "What's the summer solstice deadline?"

He winced.

"Look, Percy... I was just worried for you and about you and I knew that you were closer to Bruner than other teachers and I... I mean—" he took a breath. "hallucinating math teachers and—"

"Grover."

"And so I was telling Mr. Bruner that maybe you were overstressed or something, because Mrs. Dodds never existed and—"

"Grover." I repeated. "You're a really bad liar."

Embarrassed, his ears turned pink, but he stopped rambling. Instead, he fished a card from out of his pocket— a business card, which seemed odd.

"Here," my best friend offered the card to me. "Just take it, okay? Just... In case you need me this summer."

In case I need him?

The idea was almost ironic, since most of the year had been me trying to protect Grover from other kids and yet... I sensed that I might need it.

Anything to get out of the apartment when it was just Gabe and I at home.

Looking at the card, I almost thought it was a prank because he gave a dyslexic kid a card with fancy cursive, but I was eventually able to make out what it said.

Grover Underwood
Keeper

Half Blood Hill
Long Island, New York
(800)009-0009

"What's half—"

"Don't say it out loud!" Grover yelped. "It's my uh... Summer address."

Oh.

My heart sank. I felt my body decompress.

Grover had a summer home. We'd spent so much time together that I'd never considered the fact that his family probably had money, like every other family at Yancy.

Every family but mine.

"Okay," I said glumly. "so if I, like, want to visit your mansion or whatever?"

He nodded his head. "or just... If you need me."

But between the conversation with Bruner and this new development, I felt slighted by my best friend.

"Why would I need you?"

It did come out harsher than I intended, but it still sent the message: it would've been nice to know.

Grover blushed, turning the color of a strawberry.

"Look, I—" he stuttered. "Percy, the truth is I— I kind of have to... Protect you."

The idea was laughable, but I contained my honor and just stared at him.

I spent all year fighting his bullies. I'd lost sleep over worrying about what would happen to him next year when I wasn't there to keep at least most of the bullies at bay.

Yet here he was, acting like he was the one who protected me.

Sure, he helped me, but that's not the same as protecting. Unless he maybe protected me from myself, but that's... Not the same.

"Grover," I said. "what exactly are you protecting me from?"

As if on cue, a grinding noise halted the bus as the vehicle started to smoke. After a minute, the driver announced we all had to get off.

I had a bad feeling about this.