Half-Blood High

VIII

Percy                             

"Yeah Mom, I'm about to leave. Just gotta grab something. See you at home. Love you too." I hung up and tucked my phone into my pocket. The school day was over (finally!) and I needed to get some things from my locker before heading home.

I rounded the corner, on my way to the lockers, when a flash of red and green caught my eye. Without a doubt, it was Grover.

He looked over his shoulder, but I guess he didn't see me. His expression was super nervous, like me before an algebra test. He ducked around the corner, out of sight.

Huh. Weird.

I headed for my locker, when I heard it. An odd clip-clop clip-clop. Like horse hooves.

One problem: There were no horses at Half-Blood High.

I peered around the corner and yelped in surprise.

Grover was standing in the hallway, without his pants, or his shoes. That wasn't the strangest part.

Where his legs and feet would have been, there was only fur. Fur and... horse hooves?

What the heck?!

His shoes and pants lay piles at his feet. He quickly stuffed them into a nearby locker, his locker, then turned and headed for the supply closet door.

He opened it, and looked around again, before heading inside.

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Hazel

When Frank asked me to help him set up his dorm room, I though it would be a normal affair.

I was wrong.

(Don't tell Octavian that I said that. He'll hold it over my head forever.)

We started out unpacking. Two piles of cardboard boxes filled with the essentials were stacked along the wall of his room. The room was bare, save the yellowed mattress sitting on the wooden bed frame.

"I'll start with the clothes." Frank picked up three boxes and put them on the bed.

"And I'll work on the... vases?"

"Oh sorry, that's mislabeled. That one is pictures." Frank pulled one uniform out of the box and smoothed it out on the bed.

"Okay." I grabbed the top box and set it on the floor. I pulled the tape off and peered inside.

Several framed photographs were stacked, one on top of the other. The one on top was a picture of an elderly woman, her hands on a younger Frank's shoulders. He clutched an award, a big smile on his face.

"That one was from when I won the spelling bee."

I jumped. Frank had moved so that he was behind me, looking over my shoulder at the photo. His expression was mournful, as if he was remembering a better time, one he missed dearly.

"That's my grandmother." He pointed to the woman. "I was in fifth grade, and was super nervous; I threw up before the competition. My grandmother told me: "Don't be nervous Fai. Stand tall and proud."" He traced the woman's face with his finger. "I won first place, and had never been happier."

"She looks so proud of you."

He smiled sadly. "Thanks. She died a month ago."

My mouth fell open. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

He shrugged. "It's okay." Then, he went back to unpacking the clothes. I watched him for a minute before continuing with my box.

I felt a little awkward now.

"I've lost people too."

He froze. I continued talking.

"I never met my dad. My mother was a fortune teller in New Orleans."

My voice cracked on the last syllable.

"When I was around ten or eleven, she got sick."

My mother. She had once been beautiful, but the sickness took that away, and left an old woman in its place.

"She died after we moved here. I got accepted into the academy, and I've lived in student housing ever since."

Frank crossed the room, and gently laid a hand on my shoulder.

"That was three years ago."

A tear, cold and bitter, slid down my cheek. I hadn't meant to cry, but I always did when talking about my mother.

"Hazel," Frank paused, trying to find the words. But he would be thinking for a long time. There are no words in existence to take away the pain you feel when someone is gone. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about.

Then, Frank did something unexpected.

He hugged me.

He slid his arms gently around my shoulders and hugged me close, letting me cry into his uniform shirt.

"I'm here for you Hazel. I've lost more than just my grandmother."

He gently led me to his mattress and we both sat down. I looked up through a haze of tears, his warm brown eyes meeting mine.

"My mom died when I was seven. I never knew my dad."

His left arm was still wrapped around my shoulder, holding me. No one had held me like this since I was five and had chicken pox. My mother had held me close and whispered stories to me until I fell asleep. The comforting feeling that I had felt then was back, warm and soft and fuzzy.

We sat quietly on his bed, not saying anything.

It was rather... comforting.

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Percy

I'm pretty sure I've gone insane. Yeah, that's it. I'm insane and hallucinating. How else could this be happening?

I was debating on my mental stability while simultaneously trailing Grover secretly. I had waited a few seconds before going after him into the supply closet.

It was dark, and a little dank in there. I thought of turning on the lights, but opted against it.

Grover was at the other end of the supply closet, messing with a potted pine tree. I ducked behind a nearby shelf and watched. He picked it up and set it a few feet away, revealing a hidden button. He tapped it with his foot, and a grinding sound filled the room. In the dim light, I saw a section of the wall disappear.

I gasped, then quickly covered my mouth. Luckily, the grinding covered it up. Grover glanced back once, then disappeared into the wall.

I sat there for a moment, dumbfounded. Then, my brain kicked into high gear.

I jumped up and raced for the doorway. Without a second thought, (or even a first really.) I entered the wall.

It wasn't as dark in there as it was in the closet. Medieval-type wall sconces held burning torches. The hall was pretty small, barely wide enough it fit one person. I kept walking.

The telltale clip-clop Of Grover's hooves echoed a ways ahead of me. I followed it like a map, sometimes catching a glimpse of his shadow as he rounded a corner.

Dang, this is pretty far under the school. I wonder where it's leading t-

My train of though was stopped short. The hallway had ended, but Grover was no where to be seen.

The rock walls ended. A pair of familiar black marble doors stood before me.

My heart was pounding, hard and fast. I went to grab at the handle, but my hand slipped, it was so sweaty. I wiped my palms on my pants and tried again.

This time, the door opened seamlessly, unlike my dream. They swept open silently, and I stepped inside.
. . .
Done!

Thoughts?

Peace ✌️

-SilverQuillsandRoses